Chapter One:
Emma opened her eyes to a world of only darkness and the feeling of cold hard metal beneath her. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the blackness that surrounded her. Her memory was groggy, her mind searching for an explanation of her situation desperately, searching through stacks of information that lay dormant in her mind. But none came.
Having her sight taken began to take its toll as the minutes crawled by. By feeling around, Emma could identify that she was in some sort of metal box or cage. And it was moving upward. She ran her fingers along the side of the cage, trying to estimate its size. Knowing more about her surroundings provided some comfort in this strange new world.
Suddenly, scratching sounds rattled the darkness. Emma got the uneasy sensation that there was something outside of the cage. Something trying to get at her. She backed into the middle of the cage, realizing that the scratching sounds were coming from all around the cage. If she knew anything for sure, it was that she didn't want to run into the creatures that lay in wait in the darkness. The cage that had seemed to confine her became her only means of protection as the metal box slowly made its way upward. Toward what, Emma wasn't sure.
Emma looked upward, noticing cracks of light coming through the very top of the shaft. The small amount of light allowed her to see that other things had been placed in the box: a couple wooden boxes and some rope and other supplies. She heard the growling and scratching grow farther away as she neared the top of the shaft. Suddenly, the top burst open and light flooded through. Emma blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the sudden daylight. A crowd of people surrounded her, their voices mixed together so that she could only make out some of the things they were saying.
"Who is this shank?"
"It's a girl, man," said another.
Confusion and chaos continued until one voice broke through the others. Somebody pushed their way through all the onlookers and crouched down to help Emma out of the cage, whose top had opened up during the initial confusion at her arrival.
"Hi, I'm Newt," he said. "Welcome to the Glade." Emma gave a brief smile, feeling glad that at least one person in this "Glade" place was nice.
"And this here's Alby," said Newt, gesturing to a boy behind him. "He's the real leader around here." Newt's green eyes glinted mischievously.
"It's true," said Alby. "First things first. What's your name?"
"I. . .um. . ." Emma stammered, realizing that she didn't even know her own name. her mind had been wiped completely blank ever since she had woken up. But suddenly it came to her. "My name's Emma. And I want to leave." She hadn't expected to speak so confidently. Emma still didn't really know anything about this new place.
Newt and Alby looked taken aback at her directness. After a moment, they regained their senses and spoke. "You can't really leave," said Newt, almost apologetically. "At least, not yet." The crowd around them gave a disappointed murmur.
"What do you mean?" asked Emma. "Can't I just go back down through the box?"
"If you want to die you can," said a kid from the audience. "Plus you're a girl. You wouldn't have the guts to do it anyway."
Emma clenched her fists tightly, trying to restrain herself from punching the boy in the nose. Goodness knows, he deserves it, she thought angrily.
"Gally," said Alby said with authority. His tone was firm. "Let up."
Gally rolled his eyes and then left the group, muttering, "I've got better things to do."
"Sorry about him," Newt said. "We all hate him. Anyways, welcome."
"And, uh, Newt's right," said Alby. "About escaping I mean. We can't do it. Not yet, anyways. But we've tried everything, believe me."
"What are we gonna do about a girl?" came a voice from the crowd.
"Why is it so significant that I'm a girl?" Emma wondered. "It's like you've never seen a girl before."
"We haven't really," said a boy. "You're the first one."
''YOu mean I'm the only girl ever to have come up through the. . .thing?"
"Yep," Newt responded. "But hey, change is for the better, right?" He took her hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Emma spent the rest of her day being led through the Glade. She passed by many people working on different things. Cooking, picking vegetables, none of the available jobs seemed appealing to her. What she really wanted to do was help find a way out. Even though the Glade didn't seem too bad, she could tell that worse things had happened in its history. And throughout it all, there was just an eerie sense. Of being manipulated, of not belonging.
Not wanting to seem strange, (or stranger than she already was to the Glade residents) Emma kept these thoughts to herself. She had the confidence hat her questions would be answered eventually, somehow. She had decided to take her introduction the Glade just as it came. At the end of the day, Newt led her to a stone wall. Though daylight was ending, Emma could make out several names carved on the stone surface.
These are the names of people who have died," Newt said quietly.
"Oh," Emma said softly, running her hand along the surface. "But how-"
"-you'll see," Newt interrupted. "Tomorrow. We'll show you the grievers. And the maze"
'What are-" Emma tried to ask, but Newt stopped her.
"Don't ask," He said. You'll find out soon enough."
"We're going to get out," Emma said to herself as she stared up at the wall. She started to wonder about those who had died. What had happened? Had they been trying to escape?
"Huh?" said Newt, having heard Emma.
"We're going to get out," she said, stronger this time. Somehow, she knew it. It might take a long time, but she knew that escape was possible. "I know it."
"I believe you," Newt agreed. "I really do."
Emma made a silent vow to herself. She vowed never to be one of those names, carved in stone, as if your fate was predetermined, as if your untimely death was solidified in the history of the Glade. And she vowed to find a way out, no matter how long it took her.
"Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?" Newt asked, interrupting her thoughts. "It's just kinda where we sit around a fire and try to forget about how weird this place is. It's fun."
"Sure, I'll come," said Emma. "A little bit of fun might help me forget about this twisted place. What do you think it is, anyways? I mean, why are we here?"
"Nobody knows," Newt answered. "Some of us think its a prison. Others say its some scientific experiment on us."
"What about you?" Emma asked.
"I'm not sure. But its something evil, I know that."
As the two walked back to the central area of the Glade, Emma heard a huge shaking noise from behind her. She whipped around to see the giant metal walls encasing the Glade slowly moving.
"What?!" she cried. "That's not possible."
"You better believe it," said Newt, "because it happens every morning and evening when the Runners come back."
"The who?" said Emma uncertainly as she watched the giant metal walls slide apart. Their size was so momentous, she was surprised that they could even move. When they had finally opened all the way, a stream of people came running through.
"Hi, Minho," said Newt, waving to a muscly Asian guy. "Find anything new?"
"Only the breathtaking beauty of vines and metal," said Minho sarcastically. He saw Emma and did a double take.
""Who's the girl?" asked Minho, clearly trying to pretend that he wasn't shocked.
"Her name's Emma," said Newt. "Arrived this morning."
"Congrats," said Minho, scanning her up and down. "First girl ever seen in the Glade."
"Thanks," said Emma. "I'm honored."
Minho laughed. "See you at the bonfire," he said, then took off running.
"I'll meet you there also," said Emma. "I'm going to look at myself in a mirror. I don't even know what I look like yet." She said it jokingly, but it wasn't actually funny to her.
"Pretty good," muttered Newt to himself, but to quiet for Emma to hear.
As she jogged off to the bathroom, she realized how truly puzzling her memory loss was. She understood the world, and social interaction and the way things worked. But no personal details surfaced in her mind. She couldn't remember anything about her past life, her family, her experiences. If her mind had been wiped, how had some information remained, while other details where completely lost? It just didn't make sense.
Emma reached the bathroom and went inside to look in the mirror. She had rib-length caramel hair with a slight curl at the bottom, bright blue eyes, and a slight sprinkling of freckles. She estimated herself to be about 15 or 16. She was wearing a maroon colored shirt and khaki shorts.
Knowing her physical appearance satisfied her, for the time being. She felt like she had at least some knowledge of her own life. Feeling hopeful, Emma headed off to the bonfire.
She still had questions of course, but those could wait. At least until the next day.